


Our Muse

by Chezmeralda



Category: Free!
Genre: Budding Love, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:39:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5167580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chezmeralda/pseuds/Chezmeralda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin and Haru needed to split rent with a third party, and were lucky enough to find someone who needed a place to live. They got a little more than they bargained for with their new roommate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Muse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [secant1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/secant1/gifts).



> for the 2k15 Makoto Birthday Exchange!
> 
> i think i rushed this one a bit ^^; oh well, hope it's still nice to read!

“I’m having a gay crisis.”

“When are you not,” Sousuke breathes out into the phone, like he’s handling a petulant child, “having a gay crisis, Rin?”

Rin would punch Sousuke, because shut up, it’s not like he’s called his best friend for this on a regular basis. Monthly, maybe, but that’s not enough to be considered regular. “It’s Makoto, okay? He’s been driving me crazy.”

“Makoto? As in Tachibana Makoto? As in ‘loves cats and chocolate and looks like a puppy that’s just been brought home’ Tachibana Makoto?” Sousuke’s voice is almost mocking, sing song, and Rin can practically trace out the smirk on his face. 

“Shut up, it’s not like I could possibly know about any other Tachibana Makoto,” Rin isn’t sulking, but he hears Sousuke laugh like he would if Rin were sulking. Honestly, why they’re still friends, Rin has no clue. 

“Okay, okay, fine. I’ll play. Why has Tachibana Makoto been driving you crazy?” Sousuke’s voice sounds tolerant, which Rin hates, but he’s willing enough to listen and Rin’s not about to be picky. 

Rin falls back on his couch with a long suffering sigh, glancing at the kitchen where Very Important Events occurred nearly two hours prior. He has no idea where to start, so Rin just says, simply, “He’s been sent either by God or by the Devil.”

“How so?”

“He’s constantly playing with my emotions!” Rin snaps with a sense of finality, as if that’s supposed to portray the amount of agony that he’s been going through. “He’s manipulative with that stupid, beautiful, baby face of his.”

He hears Sousuke choke, followed by a broken coughing fit, and Rin thinks he’s nearly drowned in his can of Cola. Good, if Sousuke dies via Cola drowning, then there’s no one who can blackmail him with anything he’s said. 

That is, unless, the kitten that followed Makoto home suddenly learns the phonetics of the human language. 

“I’ve never heard a description more perfect for Makoto, if I’m being honest,” Sousuke wheezes after a while. It surprises Rin, that his bestfriend agrees with him, not because they don’t ever agree on anything, but rather because Sousuke takes pleasure in blatantly disagreeing with him to rile up an argument out him.

Rin admittedly could stop falling for that tactic, but for some reason he still does, even after years of friendship. 

It was actually his friendship with Sousuke that landed Rin in this predicament of existential romanticism. And it’s existential, because for some reason whenever he sees Makoto, he swears it looks like sakura petals are falling around him.

Or maybe, Haru’s constant rambling of having found a new muse is rubbing off on him. 

 

Rin and Haru share an apartment, but with sudden spike of the utility bill (a suspicious amount of it going to water use but Haru adamantly refuses to admit anything) as well as the upcoming yearly deposit for their lease, Rin had called Sousuke to ask if he needed a place to stay. Sousuke did not, having a family condo to himself (that asshole) but he knew someone who needed a place to stay, their complex being overrun with pests after a neighbour was found to be hoarding an unhealthy supply of sugar, and then having left for over four months for a family vacation. 

Despite Haru’s protests (“He’s a stranger.” “We were strangers, too, Haru.” “I know, I still don’t trust you.” “… I hate you.”), Rin accepted Sousuke’s offer, and had been texting ‘Tachibana Makoto’ for about a week before he showed up at their doorstep one Saturday afternoon.

Rin remembers opening the door, and feeling Haru come up behind him. Makoto had his one luggage in his hand, and a larger, more durable looking travel bag, with a sheepish looking smile.

“Umm… is this the Matsuoka-Nanase apartment?” he asked, snapping both Haru and Rin out of their stupor.

“Uhhh… yes, it is Matsuoka-N-Nanase—“

“I want to draw you,” Rin had registered about a second of processing on Makoto’s face before he turned a bright red, and it only helped to emphasize the greenest eyes Rin had ever seen in his life.

Makoto stuttered then, suddenly flustered by the odd request. “I-I’m sorry?” Rin nearly laughed at the squeak at the end. So cute.

“Haru, don’t scare our new roommate right off the bat,” Rin chastized, though he couldn’t help think of how he wouldn’t mind watching Haru sketch Makoto. Maybe a nude portrait?

“I’m not scaring him, I’m telling him that I want to draw him,” Haru turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Rin with a very flustered, very adorable looking Makoto.

“I-Is he always like that?” Makoto stuttered out as Rin helped him with his luggage, pulling it along the tiny threshold. 

“He’s weird,” Rin admitted, “but you learn to like him.”

 

And that had been it. Everything should have been fine, Rin had thought with optimism. He was normal, after all. Haru had been the difficult roommate.

Except Rin began to think that maybe he had the worst luck with roommates. 

“I don’t really see the problem,” Sousuke snaps Rin out of his reverie, and he looks to the clock on the wall. Ten minutes and he won’t have the apartment to himself anymore.

“What do you mean?” Rin takes a sip of his drink, flicking the opener with his index finger.

“I mean, you have two very attractive roommates for you to ogle at as much as you want,” Sousuke replies, and Rin wishes he could punch him. “You’ve basically been blessed. It’s a blessing for you, as someone who constantly has gay crisises.”

Rin contemplates hanging up on Sousuke, and move to the mountains to become a hermit, but he doesn’t. It’s tempting, but Rin decides against it for the time being. 

“Well does it really affect you that bad that you can’t function? I mean it sounds like Nanase is getting a lot of work done,” Rin leans back again, thinking as Sousuke talks.

“Yeah, no kidding. Haru’s finished three paintings in nearly two weeks since Makoto’s moved in. I’ve never seen him so inspired before,” Rin’s voice is almost whimsical, dreamlike, as he thinks of the state of Haru’s room when he’d first declared Makoto as his muse. 

“So I don’t really see the problem? At least he’s not moping around your apartment anymore without the will to draw,” Sousuke points out.

Rin ruffles his bangs, feeling restless. “It’s not a problem about Haru,” he breathes finally. “It’s a problem with me.”

There’s a pregnant pause on the other end of the line, and Rin can tell that Sousuke is already forming some sort of thought in his head as to what might be going on. “Care to explain?”

Rin just sighs. “I’m… restless,” he finally says, and he knows Sousuke won’t settle for that.

“As in?”

“… I started playing guitar again,” and with Rin’s admission, he knows that Sousuke can understand the significance. Rin hadn’t played guitar since he was little, since he’d given it up.

Since his dad passed away.

“Sounds like Nanase’s not the only one who’s found a muse,” is Sousuke’s quiet and encouraging reply, and Rin can’t help but smile, even though it’s frustrating, but he knows Sousuke’s right.

Rin doesn’t know how to feel. He’s happy that he can connect to his father, in a sense, by picking up the old guitar and plucking away at it. But he’s so close to graduating, he’s got one more semester and then he can go home to support his mom and sister, and who knows what Gou wants to do with her life. 

There’s the distinct sound of a turning key, and Rin sits up. “Gotta go, someone’s home,” he says quickly. He’s sure that Sousuke’s saying something snarky about how he’s acting like a wife waiting for her husband to return home, but Rin hangs up before he can even give the comment the light of day, and has to remind himself not to run to the door to greet whoever’s there, only to find himself bounding giddily over anyway.

“Oh,” Rin narrows his eyes at the voice, before turning quickly away from Haru, grumbling a bit to himself.

“Thought it was someone else,” he mutters, though he does help Haru with the groceries he’s brought home, taking a quick glance into the bag he picked up. Mackerel. Figures.

“Makoto won’t be home until later this evening,” Haru replies, brushing passed Rin to set down his groceries on the counter, already pilfering through the contents of each bag and taking out ingredients. 

“How do you know?”

“He texted me.”

Rin stares at Haru, surprised. “He texted you? Since when are both of you on texting terms?” he tries not to sound too surprised, or jealous. Because what’s there to be jealous about? 

“… Since we became roommates?” Haru doesn’t even glance up at Rin, instead looking at the small amount of ginger he bought before breaking off a piece and setting it aside, putting the rest away and then getting onions out of the bag. “He texted you, too, probably.”

Rin has to resist the urge to dive back to the couch for his phone, and he sees the one unread text that he missed, which is from Makoto, sure enough. 

**hey! i’ll be home later this evening ^^ my flight got delayed by a few hours, so if i’m lucky i’ll be just in time for dinner~**

It’s cute, and Rin can’t help but smile as he reads it over before calmly going back to Haru, who’s looking at him with one eyebrow raised. Rin ignores the implication in Haru’s stare. “So what are you doing?”

“He said he’d be home in time for dinner, right?” Haru replies. “I thought… why not make his favourite.”

And that’s when Rin sees it, that small look on Haru’s face that’s both endearing and amazing to see. It’s there in the way Haru’s eyes flutter just slightly, a tinge of pink coming up to stain the bridge of his nose. It’s in the way his lips twitch in an upturn, and he’s looking at the grocery bags almost fondly, tenderly, and Rin knows this must have been the same look, same feeling he had when Haru had gone to buy the ingredients. 

Rin’s seen it in the way Haru paints, even more so now than before, now that the subject of his paintings has turned warmer, with more summer atmosphere, with more vibrant greens and hints of warmth shining through. It’s a stark change from his usual cool, icy colours, and vast, barran landscapes with dark, cold oceans. 

Rin knows that the both of them know what caused Haru’s art style to change. 

“I’ll help,” Rin says quietly, taking out some of the cocoa powder from the bag full of baking ingredients. Haru didn’t skimp out, either. Rin can tell that Haru went out of his way to get some of the best food the store had to offer. 

Haru gives Rin a genuine smile then, and it’s one that’s so rare it makes Rin’s knees go weak. He’s a weak man, and should have fallen to his knees, but he manages to stay upright, if not for just the sake of his pride. “Thank you. You should start chopping then, while I sift and measure the ingredients.”

Rin sighs as Haru takes the bag of cocoa powder. He doesn’t get why Haru doesn’t trust him with baked goods. It was only that one time with Nagisa. “Fine… what am I chopping?”

 

Rin’s standing over a pot of simmering green curry, the fragrant smells of ginger, garlic, and apple wafting its way up to his nose, the chicken that’s been marinated in mirin and rice wine vinegar having been seared off and then thrown into the oven to cook. Haru had told him that the chicken would be added a few minutes before just serving, and there’s a pan searing the skin side of the mackerel for Haru’s meal under Rin’s watch. 

Haru’s putting the last touches of decorations on the chocolate parfaits, chocolate dipped strawberry hearts (Rin didn’t do that but Haru doesn’t believe him) placed carefully in towers of fluffy whipped cream, with chocolate wafer sticks and chocolate syrup. Rin doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, so one of the parfaits is a bit toned down, with just the layers of cake, mousse and whipped cream. 

He steps aside and watches Haru pull out the chicken, setting it on a board to rest. “You really went out of your way for this dinner, huh, Haru?” Rin says in passing.

“It’s the least I could do,” Haru replies, not looking at Rin as he stirs the curry. “Makoto gave me my spark back.”

Rin can’t really deny that. He’d seen Haru go through a slump after an art critic deemed his work as cold and distant, losing him an investor in one of his exhibits. It had really hit him hard, to a point where he didn’t even paint anything for a long period of time. 

Seeing Haru now, to how he had been nearly a few months ago, was such a drastic change, it was almost like he became a completely different painter. 

“I got invited back into the Young Artists Exhibition again,” Haru continues, and Rin’s eyes widen in surprise. During Haru’s down time, he hadn’t been creating anything, and therefore exhibits and showcases had been dropping him left and right from their invite lists. “I have more than enough paintings to display even before the deadline, so this is one thing I wanted to… give back.”

It’s the most Haru’s talked about his slump to Rin since the actual incident happened, and Rin wonders if this, too, is a change stemming from being around Makoto, who had been so open since the first day he’d moved in, that by the second week Haru and Rin knew so much as what his little siblings’ favourite colours were (purple and orange, but it changes everyday, according to Makoto). 

“I’m sure he’ll love it, Haru,” Rin gives him a fond smile, a small indulgence that he allows himself in this rather intimate moment, because it is so tender, that Haru knows it’s a rare time of calm between them. Maybe Rin, too, has learned to allow himself to show vulnerability around Haru, in times like this. 

Haru just sighs in hope, his only indication that he’s heard Rin as he gently places the last touches on dinner. “He’s done the same for you, too, Rin,” Haru points out, which takes Rin aback. He’s not sure what to think about that statement. “You’ve been… more calm recently.”

Rin isn’t sure if that’s a comment he should take offense to, but he’s more curious than offended, if anything, so he doesn’t push the topic in that direction. “How so?”

Haru just shrugs. “The air around you feels different.”

Rin just rolls his eyes, because that’s Haru’s inner artist talking, and he hates that guy, because he’s so cryptic. “That doesn’t help, you idiot. I don’t know what the ‘air around me’ feels like.”

Haru glances at him with a slight narrowing of his eyes, and Rin finds himself back on familiar territory. “You’ve been abrasive lately because of school, right?” Haru says. “Don’t say you haven’t been, you came home and nearly broke the tea pot because you were so angry.”

Rin doesn’t say anything then, because how can he? He remembers That Day. His professor had been especially difficult during lecture, to the point where he’d made a kid cry, and Rin had been so fed up with his pompous prick attitude that he’d stood up for the kid. Instead of it helping, it got both of them kicked out, and the kid that he had initially stood up for had chewed him out, leaving Rin feeling shitty and stupid for even trying to help in the first place. 

“But you’re not like that now,” Haru continues, grabbing a bowl and patting rice into it, forming the rice into a dome before turning it over onto a deep plate. “I even heard you earlier this week.”

“What?” Rin looks at Haru, confused, as he ladles generous amounts of green curry sauce around the little dome of rice. 

“You were playing your guitar a few days ago,” Haru clarifies as he puts the pieces of chicken carefully on top of the rice. “You’re writing music again, aren’t you.”

It’s not even a question, it’s a statement, and Rin knows that Haru’s seen the countless amounts of paper with scribbled out note sequences and hastily written lyrics scrawled in a hurried mess. He knows Haru’s seen it, out of all three of them, he and Haru are the neat freaks, if Rin had left a mess that he was too preoccupied to worry about, Haru would have seen it. 

Rin scuffs his sock clad foot across the tile kitchen floor, hands shoved in his pockets. Haru doesn’t even flinch, instead going to the table to set the dishes down, putting the utensils and glasses down, and arranging the desserts in a neat fashion. Haru comes back to get out the juice mixture he’d made and sets it on the counter, taking a wooden spoon to give it one last mix. 

“I have a song already, actually,” Rin quietly admits, and Haru puts the spoon down to look at him. “I was just finishing it up a while ago…”

Haru gives Rin a smile, and Rin clears his throat, looking away. “I’m sure he’ll love it, Rin,” Haru gives him a pat on the arm, and the door opens as he sets down the pitcher of juice. The both of them look up to see Makoto stumble through the door with his luggage, cheeks red from the wind outside. 

“I’m home!” he practically beams the moment his eyes fall on the both of them, and Rin can feel his lips parting into a wide grin to match Makoto. It takes a moment for Makoto to register that something is going on in the kitchen, but he slowly begins to meander over, after quickly pushing his luggage through the door to his room. 

He’s chilled, Rin can see it, in the way his cheeks and nose are red, in how his hair doesn’t quite sit properly on his head, but how it just fluffs slightly with every movement he makes. It’s in the quiet way he’s still keeping his oversized jacket on, with his scarf wrapped tightly around his neck (Rin had the pleasure of discovering that it was extra, extra long by the way that Haru looked at it confusedly as he pulled it out of the washing machine). 

He and Haru watch Makoto take in everything, from the curry dishes on the table, to the parfaits that seem to shimmer in their fluorescent kitchen lighting, to how Haru and Rin are looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to respond.

He just blinks at them, in a way that Rin can only compare to a puppy looking at its owner. “What’s going on?” Makoto asks, a confused tilt of his head as his eyes dart from Rin to Haru to the table and back.

Haru steps closer to Makoto, guiding him to his chair. “We wanted to make you something,” he says, and Rin’s surprised Haru includes him in the idea, but he’s not about to say no, not when Makoto turns to look at him with eyes the size of dinner plates. “It’s to thank you.”

“Thank me?” Makoto parrots, plopping down in his chair as Haru carefully unravels his scarf, Rin going to pull the jacket off his shoulders. He’s tempted, in that moment, to plant his lips on the bit of skin exposed on Makoto’s shoulder then, his sweater sliding down slightly along with the jacket. 

“Yeah, well. Haru had the idea to thank you, for being his muse and all,” Rin smiles at Makoto, eyes lighting up at the food in front of him. 

“But… I didn’t do anything,” Makoto looks confused as Haru sits next to him. 

“Yes, you did. You brought back my inspiration,” Haru puts his hand on Makoto’s arm, and Rin can’t help but mirror the action as he takes his place on Makoto’s other side. “I was in a slump before you moved in… but now I’ve been invited back to the Young Artists’ Exhibit.”

Makoto’s expression melts to one of fondness, and overwhelming happiness for Haru as he hears the news. “Really?” he breathes. “Haru, I’m so happy for you!”

“Which is why you’ve come home to this,” Rin gestures to the food in front of them. “Haru made your favourites.”

Makoto took one more look at Haru before reaching up to give Haru a hug. It surprised him, and Rin had to turn his face away to keep from laughing outright. “Come on,” Rin pulled Makoto off of Haru to give him a small break. “Let’s eat!”

Rin finds himself lying awake in his room after dinner, muttering song lyrics to himself. He gets so frustrated, the itch in his fingertips not leaving, that he gets up abruptly. He stares momentarily at his desk before flicking on the work lamp and scrawling all over his notebook, clicking his tongue as he goes. 

He doesn’t notice the door to his room open until he feels a presence next to him, his head turning so quickly Rin nearly gives himself whiplash. “Haru what the fuck!” he yelps, alerted by the slight hint of paint thinner in the air.

“You’re writing again,” is all Haru says, and Rin just sighs. He just wishes he could get some rest, he has a long school day tomorrow.

Rin ignores him, because acknowledgement of the fact is pointless, and he’s starting to lose his train of thought. “Will you play it for him?” is Haru’s next question as soon as Rin puts down his pencil.

“I… don’t know…” Rin admits. The last time he’d ever played a song for anyone was for his mother, and that was nearly eighteen years ago, when he’d still thought walking around in diapers and socks were cool. 

“Makoto inspired you to write it, didn’t he?” Haru leans over to read some of the lyrics, and Rin knows that Haru’s savvy in poetic language enough to be able to tell. 

“… So what if I am?” Rin huffs.

“So you should show it to Makoto,” Haru replies. “You haven’t written since—“

“I know,” Rin interrupts Haru then. He doesn’t want to hear it, but Rin knows. He knows how long it’s been, he understood what he gave up when he entered university to be an engineer, he gets that he shouldn’t look back at his choice and regret when it’ll support his family and they’ll be stable and happy. 

“Music makes you feel alive, Rin,” Haru murmurs quietly to him, and Rin looks up from holding his head in his hands. Haru’s eyes sparkle in the dim light, as if he’s sharing an energy beyond either of their comprehension. “I know it does. I’ve never seen you happier than when you picked up your guitar and started playing.”

“I can’t give up when I’m almost graduating,” is all Rin says, because he’s weak, in this moment. He can feel the spirit of Haru’s passion in the air, the very reason he picks up his paint brush day after day, and it makes his palms itch, fingers twitching in the air almost like plucking strings at a guitar. 

“You don’t have to give anything up to finally begin to live, Rin,” Haru says finally. “Just finish that song, and give it to Makoto. Maybe you’ll find out some answers then.”

Rin sighs, glancing down at Haru’s worn looking hands. They’re covered in white paint and smudged with an array of different colours at the tips. Without thinking Rin reaches for Haru’s hand and massages it gently in his, turning it over to look at Haru’s palms and sees clay residue there. “Another project?” Rin asks quietly.

Haru doesn’t pull away, and Rin looks up to meet Haru’s eyes as he nods. “The exhibit wants a centrepiece. And something that Makoto said the other day inspired me.”

“What was that?” Rin’s voice is almost a whisper, like he is too afraid to find out. 

“We were talking about why Makoto writes children’s books even though he’s studying to be a teacher,” Haru says, eyes distant and out of focus as he recalls the memory. “He said that he likes the thought that someone will read those stories and be inspired to do something, even if it’s small. He wants to make people feel from deep within themselves and feel happy.”

Rin and Haru’s eyes meet and they hold each other’s gaze for a while, neither moving or saying anything. Rin can’t help but smile at the thought of Makoto saying something like that. He’d learned that Makoto had siblings, and always used to enjoy telling them stories before bed. It would be fitting for Makoto to say something like that about children’s books.

After a while, Rin lets go of Haru’s hand and Haru leaves to finish his sculpture. Rin glances at the clock and sees that it’s almost four in the morning. He sighs and picks up his pencil. 

“I’ll give this to Makoto in the morning,” he murmurs to himself, smiling at how Makoto might react to being woken up by guitar.

**Author's Note:**

> so this work isn't very relationship based (or very smutty lol) but rather it explores the dynamics of those 3 and i guess it could serve as a very basic prequel to what might be their relationship in the future? though i would write what happens next lol just because i have too much to write anyway, but anyone is welcome to go ahead and take this and run with it
> 
> also not a lot of makoto? LOL sorry, but it's still a story showing what haru and rin feel for him, so good enough maybe? >.>


End file.
